Out of the Night (16 page)

"Maybe I only like human blood."

She wanted to hit him, but instead stared at him for several seconds, blinking. "Fine." She pulled her hair off to one side as she walked over to stand directly in front of him and then tilted her neck. "Have at it."

For several long seconds they stood there, and she felt his gaze on her exposed neck and prayed she hadn't misjudged his nature. When it was obvious he wasn't going to bite her, she straightened. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand gently on the one still holding the gun. "You've gone through some changes, but you're not a killer."

"Yet."

"Yet," she agreed, slipping her hand over the barrel of the gun so she could point it away from her as she slipped it from his hand. He seemed stunned, and slightly amused, by her daring, but didn't try to stop her. "Tell you what." she continued. "If you do turn out to be a full-fledged vampire—I'll shoot you myself."

His eyes opened wide and the barest hint of a smile touched his lips. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Besides, you shooting yourself wouldn't do the trick. Based on our previous experience, if you really are a vampire, it's going to take more than one bullet to kill you. How were you planning to pull that off?"

The phone rang before Mac could respond, and he walked across the room to answer it. Lanie thought his voice sounded remarkably normal, under the circumstances.

The conversation lasted only a few minutes and from what she heard on Mac's side, he was talking to Uncle Charles. When he hung up, he turned to her. "Damn. I forgot about the reception tonight."

"What kind of reception?"

"It's sort of a bon voyage for one of the captains who's retiring. Since so many of us are in town, they decided to make a big event out of it."

"Oh."

"In fact, it's black tie. How 'bout it?"

Her heart gave a small flutter of excitement. "You want me to go with you?" She prayed she didn't sound too much like a schoolgirl who'd just been asked to the prom. Leave it to Mac to bring her back to reality, though.

"Yeah, I want you to go. I can't leave you here alone."

Of course
, she thought. This wasn't a date. He had a girlfriend—which was a whole other issue Lanie knew she'd have to deal with soon. She
did not
have sex with other women's boyfriends.

"I'll have to go shopping."

"Fine. I'll take you."

"That's okay. I'm a big girl. I think I can handle buying an evening gown on my own."

He gave her a curious look. "I meant that I wanted to buy the dress for you."

"Oh." That took her by surprise. "Why?" Then she knew. It was a guilt gift, either for trying to rip out her throat or for almost having sex with her—or both. Lanie sighed. Maybe now was the time for that talk after all.

"Mac, what about Sandra?"

He had the audacity to look confused. "What about her?"

Lanie gave him a pointed look that, being male, he totally misinterpreted. "Oh, that. I called her from the plane earlier and told her we wouldn't be flying back for a couple of days. I'll tell her about the vampire thing later. I don't want to worry her."

Lanie heaved a labored sigh. "What about what happened this morning—
before
you bit my neck?"

He cringed at the reminder. "That's not really any of her business."

Lanie was shocked at his attitude. "You don't think your girlfriend has the right to—"

"Sister."

"What did you say?"

"Sandra is my sister."

Lanie felt herself grow red as she tried to ignore the grin spreading across his face. "You call your sister
Babycakes
?"

"Actually, Keith, my partner, started calling her
Babycakes
about five years ago, when they began dating. Now they're married, but the name sort of stuck. She hates it, which of course is why I use it."

"That's… nice," she offered lamely.

"So you'll go to the reception with me?"

"Are you asking me—or telling me?"

He gave her a slow, easy grin that did funny things to her insides. "Asking."

"Then yes, I'd love to go. Thank you."

He took a step toward her and it was more than she could take. "You know what? I think I'm going to run next door now and get dressed." She hurried across the room and then stopped at the door, seconds from a clean escape. "I almost forgot. Dirk phoned and wants you to call him."

Mac told himself that he wouldn't smile as she bolted through the door, but he couldn't help it. He enjoyed her discomfort because it meant that despite the fears she might have regarding his humanity, or the lack thereof, she found him attractive—as a man. If he'd doubted it, he had only to consider the little bout of jealousy she'd quickly tried to hide when she'd thought Sandra was his girlfriend. The revelation buoyed him like nothing else had so far.

Maybe, just maybe, if he got this "vampire" thing under control—or better yet, got over it completely—they could pick up where they'd left off this morning. He hoped so, because the memory of her body against his would be burned into his flesh and his mind for a long, long time.

He waited until he saw the connecting door to her room close, and then he crossed to the phone. He called the satellite phone number Dirk had given him and waited for the other man to answer. It didn't take long.

"About damn time," Dirk said when he found out who it was. "Everything okay? Your girlfriend said you were sleeping when I called earlier."

Remembering the way Dirk had looked at Lanie back at the research facility, Mac decided not to correct the misconception that she was his girlfriend. "Yeah, rough night," he said, letting Dirk interpret that any way he wanted to. "What's up? Lanie said it was important."

"We found your plane."

Mac was instantly alert. "Here in D.C.?"

"Close enough. It's still in one piece, but there was no sign of Burton or anyone else."

"Damn."

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. What the hell is Burton doing here?"

Mac's thoughts turned to the homeless men, wondering if he was drawing the logical conclusion—or if it was wishful thinking that Burton was responsible.

"Damned if I know. Let's keep our eyes open," Mac suggested. "Thanks for the intel. Where's my plane now?"

"Old cornfield, not far from here." Dirk gave him the location. "Anything else I can do?"

Mac's mind was already thinking to the day ahead. "I don't know yet. Keep your phone on, okay?"

"Roger that."

Mac hung up and, after hearing me shower go off in the next room, knocked on the connecting doors. After a moment the door opened and Lanie stood there, a towel wrapped around her freshly washed body. Mac had to swallow a groan. Her skin still bore a fine sheen of moisture, and the smell of her soap and shampoo lingered in the air. Mesmerized, he watched a droplet of water fall from a dangling tendril of wet hair and land at the base of her throat before it rolled downward and disappeared into her generous cleavage.

Immediately his body tightened in response and he was almost overcome by the urge to rip off the towel and carry her to the bed.

Instead, he cleared his throat and took a step away from her. "I talked to Dirk and they found my plane not far from here."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Here? Then that means Burton and my dad could be in town."

"Exactly."

Her brow furrowed. "But I thought you said he wouldn't come here."

Mac shrugged. "It doesn't make any sense." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Digging in it, he pulled out several large bills and held them out to her. "I know I promised to take you shopping, but I need to go pick up my plane. You'll have to go without me. Take this and use it."

She shook her head. "That's okay. I have my own money—"

Mac took her hand and pressed the bills into it. "I insist. I'm bailing on the shopping spree, not the reception." He hesitated. "Plus, I feel guilty for, you know." He waved his hand toward her neck.

He realized his mistake immediately, but it was too late to take it back. He watched the flush spread from her face down her neck and saw the spark of anger light her eyes as she gripped the money in her hand. "Well, if it's a matter of easing your guilt, by all means, let me see what I can do."

It was too late to take back his words, so he merely smiled.

"I should probably run," he told her, hating the thought of leaving her. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nodded, but there was a worried expression on her face that he recognized. When he backed into his room, she followed him.

"Mac, if Burton and my father are in town, then it's more likely that one, or both, of them killed those homeless men."

He nodded. "The thought crossed my mind."

She bit her lip as a worried expression fell over her face. "It also means that those men—"

"I thought of that, too, so no worries, okay?"

She nodded, still looking worried. "Okay, but are you sure you don't need help with—"

"No. I'll take care of it." He waited until she walked back into her room and then he went to find a change of clothes. Exactly what did one wear to the morgue to stake a couple of corpses?

It was late when Lanie glanced at the clock in the taxi and mentally calculated how much time she had to achieve me impossible—make herself presentable for the reception. Taking money from her purse, she paid the cabbie when he pulled in front of the hotel and then allowed the doorman to help her out.

She hurried through the lobby to the elevator, wondering if two hours would be enough time. She couldn't remember when last she'd attended a formal affair. She hoped that Mac wasn't already upstairs waiting for her. Not just because she didn't want to feel rushed, but because she didn't want him to see all the packages she carried. Despite what she'd led him to believe, she really hadn't meant to spend any of his money, but the credit limit on her card proved unworthy of the challenge she threw at it.

She reached her room, shifted the packages to one hand, and pulled out her key card. As soon as the door opened, she dragged her bounty inside.

Exhausted from shopping, she dropped everything on the bed with a relieved sigh—everything except the dress. That she carefully hung in the closet and then waited for her heart to stop pounding. The dress was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen—and the most expensive.

Crossing to the connecting doors, Lanie opened hers and found Mac's closed. She knocked and waited.

"Mac? Are you there?"

Visions of that morning replayed in her head as she tried the knob and found it unlocked. Pushing open the door, she poked her head inside. "Mac?"

It took about two seconds to verify that he wasn't there. The bed had been made and the room tidied—evidence that housekeeping had worked their magic—and the bloodstain beneath the window was gone—probably Mac's doing—but otherwise the room was dark and empty. Returning to her closet, she pulled the plastic wrap off the dress and stood back to admire it.

All she'd wanted was a simple black dress and shoes to match. After four stores and too many exorbitantly priced, yet astoundingly unimpressive dresses, Lanie had felt like canceling the entire evening. Then she'd seen it.